Saturday, February 24, 2007

It's only a sense of desparation. Like a movie


I deplore putting fingers to keys. My attention span has shriveled to that of a man too anxiety ridden to move for fear it is the wrong move. Not wrong move, for any movement is better than none and I make concerted efforts. But while carrying out a set of priorities I find a place where energies might be better spent. This place, or whatever it is, should in all probability be done before I finish the task I am on or I might have to backtrack and do demolition or just kick myself in the ass for not being more foresight driven. And this goes on ad infinitum.
What are the best moves to make. What moves will make others easier or more effective? That chain of decisions is the highest priority, this writing about it is not.
The same ponderous beast I shall loosely call the government is so determined to waste time and effort questioning every effort by every life saver and planet saver that presents an immaculate argument for action contrary to the beasts inertial movement.

What is it with political correctness that words have to be made up to allude to what they mean. That way word frigs like Glen Beck can show how friggin doublespeak they are. What is that?

How can we do anything about anything? The impossible begins at home for most of us. Family, food, shelter, energy. Everyone is attached to every nanosecond of his life by these same four. Most of us think we have those things under control, or at least three of the four. I beg to differ. I think the things we give our least attention to are the things most perilous to our immediate future. So many little cogs, billions of them , clicked into place on the machine that turns and churns to nowhere. It has been built for us to run to keep us occupied while a few interests and minds run it and us all.

It's not plugged in, it runs off our panic, our uneasiness with death, and our misuses of life. Our flamboyant and excessively violent uses of energy, while we are plugged into it, show clearly how fearfully we wish to light the darkness, any darkness that exists. We must remit to the energy we have wasted. We must save the world. But.. How can we do anything about anything. Without the will to pull away from energy wasting ways, and ideologies that have already given the planet up for lost to be consumed in the rapture, and the powerful political media that would keep us from examining the global reality that science sees in perilous motion, we are simply fucked by, and fucking the machine.